Hevan on Earth
by ThatApolloGirl
Summary: "My name is Hevan Libelle, and I'm not normal. I may look normal, but trust me, I'm not." She has ADHD and dyslexia, a runaway dad, and a permanently drunk mother. The woods are her only escape from her sucky life. But Hevan may be more then even she herself could have dreamed, and it all started in the woods.
1. I'm Not Normal

**Hello future readers! This is my first fic, please let me know how I'm doing. I will try to update as poften as possible, but my schedule is weird. Now ON WITH THE STORY! **

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My name is Hevan, and I am not normal. I look normal, but I'm not. I have light brown hair that goes to a couple inches below my shoulders, and dark brown eyes. I am a 5 foot 7, 14-year-old girl with sucky grades and an even suckier life. One might expect the heroine of a story like this to be charming and alluring (I'm not), pretty (nope), have some outstanding trait or feature (oh hell no), or some other such crap. Well, hate to disappoint. I keep my hair short and messy, don't bother brushing most days. I have no talents (unless, of course, you count the smartest mouth on the playground as a talent), but I'm the happiest person in the world and have a million friends! That was sarcasm, idiots. I'm a smartass. Deal with it.

I have dyslexia and ADHD, so my worst subject in, hmm, let's see... school. Teachers hate my because I mouth off and "Don't apply myself." My last detention was because my teacher asked why I didn't do my homework. I told her my dyslexia was a sign not to. I'm a total loner. No friends, period, but this one weird guy with a muscular disorder in his legs kept trying to talk to me (until I told him to eff off), so yeah. No friends. I don't give a crap. People used to think I would be an easy shot to pick on, until they tried. It was kind of funny, how epically they failed. The experience was not good for their pea-sized brains. This is how it went:

Him: "Hey loner, why don't you have any friends?"

Me: "Hey dickwad, why don't you have a brain?"

Him: "Ooh, fiesty!"

Me: "Looking for your first kiss, douchebag? Look somewhere else unless you want your ass kicked by a girl."

Him: *Sneers and makes a grab for me.*

Me: *Smirks, dodges, gives him a left hook to the jaw and a knee to the balls.*

They've never tried much after that. I don't like violence, but sometimes it's the only way. Usually though, they can't wrap their brains around my quick wit, backtalk, and insults. But sometimes, their words ot caught between one ear and the other, and sometimes, I felt them. I never let it show of course. But I couldn't talk to anyone. My dad ditched us and my mom's drunk 24/7 and would hit me if I tried to talk to her. It happened often. So when it did, I went to the woods. Whatever I did there, stayed there. Sometimes, I would scream and cuss at the sky. Sometimes I would run for hours. Sometimes, I would chuck rocks at trees and pretend they were the faces of the people I hated. But I would never cry. I never have, that I can remember. The woods were my refuge, my heaven on earth. And it was in the woods that everything changed.

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**Hi random readers! So did I do okay? I wanna know! Please review! It is kind of boring, but don't worry. I have the entire storyline planned out, and it get a lot more fast-paced. I am really new to this, so I don't know how this really goes. But please, for a new author's sake, review?**

**Love you all, my loyal griffins! CFC 3**


	2. Not Entirely Human

**Hello, my loyal griffins! I'm so sorry for not updating sooner, but you've heard it all before. Just saying, a Kindle is not the fastest typer. (typist? Whatever.) Insert witty disclaimer of choice. In case you haven't noticed, ME NO OWN. YOU NO SUE. We clear now? Good. Read on my griffins! :) CFC**

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The thing in the woods was literally the scariest thing that ever happened to me, and I've seen some _pretty _scary things. I'm not being overdramatic when I say it changed the course of my entire life. It all started on a normal day after school, because when else could something like this happen? No, not a normal day. A Monday. The bane of my frickin _existence._ Why would God, whoever He is, create such an abomination? I mean, you take a perfectly good weekend, and turn it into WAKE UP AT SIX FUCKING THIRTY AND SPEND SEVEN HOURS IN THE TORTURE HOUSE. Shut up, I like my sleep. Okay, Monday rant's over, story starts.

I was in the woods, after school when it happened. I was chucking rocks at trees, pretending the knotholes I was aiming for were the jerk-face's faces. I had a pretty strong arm, and insane accuracy. I always have. I have never missed anything I've thrown at. Anyway, I was wading in the creek, looking for more ammo (I was pretty pissed that day) and saw something glittering in the water. **(A/N: Just imagine the Capture-the-Flag creek in the hated non-canon TLT movie.)** I splashed my way towards it and picked it up. It was a necklace, a fine bronze-colored chain with a flat, black, teardrop-shaped pendant outlined in more bronze. On one side of the pendant was a mask, carved into the pendant (I think it was obsidian). Not the smily-sad drama masks, just a flat, blank thing, only covering one's eyes and nose. On the opposite side was a raised symbol, a "µ" Hmm. Well, finders keepers! It was kinda pretty, in it's own, Goth-amulet way. I decided to keep it. And that decision saved my life, more than a few times.

I was wrapping up my rock-chucking (partly because my arm was killing me, mostly because it was getting so dark I knew if I didn't leave soon, it would be pitch-black by the time I got home) when I heard a crashing, wheezing noise and someone charged though the undergrowth. He skidded to a panting stop in front of me, and in the fading twilight, (dramatic, aren't I?) I could see who it was. Nope, no evil supervillain about to murder me and scatter my severed limbs to the four corners of the earth in vengeance for my mom's three thousand eight hundred and fifty-second overdue drunk-driving tickets. (That was a vivid image. Did I really think that? I am a messed-up almost-adult.) It was that guy, remember that one, the one that kept trying to "befriend" me until I scared him into almost pissing his pants, the one with the muscular disorder? That guy. In a second I had jumped up and around him, kicked the back of his knee, (lightly, the dude's got a leg disorder!) and, after he fell on his face, I stepped (again, lightly) on that spot between his shoulder blades that just doesn't hurt, and reasonably and politely asked for an explanation: "What the _hell_ are you doing here?" The guy- Gus- whimpered under my foot, and I eased the pressure a little bit."Um, I was, uh, t-trying to w-warn y-y-you," he said, in a "please-please-please don't eat me!" voice. "Th-th-there's s-something... bad... out th-there. I'm s-supposed to k-keep you s-safe."

"_You? _Keep _me_ safe?" I snorted. "Please. Considering I just whipped your ass with my incredible ninja skills, it's not me that needs protecting. So you can just run your stuttering, ninja-whipped ass back home." Harsh, I know, but the dude was pissing me off. Really? I can't take care of myself? Hmph. Anywayses, "Y-you don't understand," His speech was getting much clearer. "There are things hunting us- you- that can, and will, kill us both. You need to follow me."

"I'm sorry, but there's now way in _hell_ that I'm gonna follow you _anywhere,_" I said. "And _why_, exactly, should I go with you? See this my way: I'm in the forest, _which is supposed to be my secret, by the way,_ and suddenly, some random guy from my school comes and demands I go with him to damned-if-I-know-_where_ with him, because we're both gonna die if I don't. Sound a bit _creepy_ to you?"

"But you have to believe me. I'm taking you somewhere safe!"

"No."

"Please?"

"No."

"Come on, I not gonna _rape_ you!"

"Love to see _you_ try! Wait, on second thought, I don't. That'd be nasty."

We were interrupted by a crashing noise in the brush, and a low, throaty, menacing growl. "Shit," I said. (I cuss as a defense mechanism. _Not_ my fault. I hear it all from my mom.) "What in hell was that?"

"In hell is right," Gus muttered. I shot him a scorching look.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I'll explain later. For now, it's a type of killer dog, and it's on your scent. If we run now, we might make it to the car before it attacks."

"Oookaay...?"

"Now will you follow me or not?" I considered my options. There was staying with my pride intact, but probably not my body or sanity, or there was following Gus, with a slightly cracked ego, but a distinctly less chance of being mauled by the killer poodle from hell, or whatever. I decided the second option.

"Fine," I told him disdainfully (Pride, always the pride.) "I'll follow you, but just because I know that if you try anything, I can whip your ass ninja-style a lot less politely."

"Works for me," he muttered, a look of mixed relief on his shaggy face.

"Wait," I said. "What about your disease or whatever? Can you keep up?"

"I'll be fine. You'd be surprised how fast I can go when I want to."

"Right. Sure. Whatever."

"Just run straight north-east. It'll lead you to a clearing with a white strawberry delivery van-"

"Strawberry delivery?"

"That's what it says! Anyway, wait for me by the van. It should only be two or three minutes running. You go ahead." I was suspicious, but I took off without further back-talk. In retrospect, I wonder how I knew what direction he meant. He hadn't pointed or anything. I could hear him trotting behind me, but, for some reason, didn't look back. He was keeping up all right, and we seemed to be almost there when- _CRASH! _There was a noise like a whole frickin tree being snapped into toothpicks by a giant clog-dancing on a pile of all the dry kindling in the universe. (Again, with the weird images... I am a special child.) The same malevolent (Look at my vocab!) growl filled the air, and a shadow loomed above me. Wait, that wasn't a shadow, that was the real thing! A dog the size of a small rhino stood in front of us. Its red, glowing eyes narrowed, and it prepare to lunge.

As if in slow motion, I reached for my necklace as the dog gathered its legs to spring. I ripped the necklace off of my neck and held it in both hands. I felt the metal get hot under my fingers, and suddenly, I was holding two small, light knives. I looked at them for a fraction of a millisecond, not comprehending, as the dog leaped. I felt instinct take over once again, and I thought back to those many, many days of throwing practice. I threw first one knife, then the other, and watched as they lodged themselves in the oncoming dog's neck. Still on the slow-mo adrenaline rush, I knew without question that it was dead, but its weight would still land on me, probably at least cracking a few ribs. i waited for the impact, but none came. Instead, I was covered with a shit-load of foul-smelling yellow dust. _"What the hell?"_ I screamed, my adrenaline rush and the instinct that possessed me gone. "The dog- and the necklace- it just- knives- _WHAT?"_

"That was a hellhound, Hevan," Gus said gravely. "And there are more coming. We'd best get in the van, now."

I shakily led the way to the van, but as I turned around, I noticed something about him that my freaked out eyes hadn't before, "Umm, Gus?" I asked still not believing my eyes, "What happened to your legs?"

"Oh. Yeah. That." Gus said, "Umm, don't freak out -any more- but I'm not entirely human."

"Yeah, I'd noticed." I seemed to be taking this-whatever it was- quite well on the outside, but on the inside, I was a long, long, _loooong_ string of curse-words.

"Uh, I'm a satyr. Really no other way to tell you. I'm taking you to a place for people like you and me- not entirely human."

"Okay then." A massive headache was setting up camp. I massaged, too weirded out to speak, but too exhausted to do anything about it.

"Um, we should probably get in now. You know, before we die."

"Good idea." I thought for a minute. "Where exactly are you taking me?"

"It's a summer camp."

"Summer camp? It's the middle of fall!"

"It goes year-round. Obviously not a normal camp, because it takes people like us."

"Obviously."

"It's called Camp Half-Blood. It's a training camp for people like you."

"When you say 'people like me,' what _exactly_ do you mean?"

"It'll sound better coming out of your own mouth, so you'll have to guess. Just think: Where have you heard about satyrs before? What culture? And what's in those other stories?"

"Satyrs... Greek! And the other stories... hmm... obviously the gods..."

"And what was the gods' favorite pastime?"

"Knocking up mortals. We did just have the Greece unit in History. That's the only part I really listened to, the Greeks. But what does that have to do with-oh. Oh. _Ohhhh_... Knocking up mortals. My mom... I don't have a dad. You're a satyr. People like me- not entirely human. _Holy fucking shit!_ I can't believe this. I'm- I'm part god. But what god would want _her_? I mean, she's a good-for-nothing drunk who beats the shit out of her own- oops. Forget I said anything." Gus the satyr wisely did as I said. "But _her_."

"Well, she was young once," Gus said, "And the drinking thing... it's not exactly uncommon among the gods' abandoned... consorts."

"Oh." Gus was driving. I didn't know how he managed it, what with the hooves and all, but he looked like he was falling asleep on his goat legs. "I'll take over," I offer- commanded. (Hey, I knew how! And You're not likely to get stopped on an old, deserted freeway in Pennsylvania, even if it was still early in the night.) "Which direction we headed?"

"Thanks," Gus yawned, "We're going to Long island, but wake me up before we get too far into New York. I need to be up so we can get in."

"Okay." After several hours and Starbucks drive-thrus (caramel frappuccino, you are the Elixir of Life), we came in sight of the Long Island Sound. I leaned over and smacked Gus a few times to wake him up. "Hey!" I said, "We're almost here." Gus groaned. "Five more minutes..."

"Shut up and wake up," I told him, "We're really close and I have no idea where to get off the freeway."

"Fine," he muttered. He did a really bad GPS imitation, "Take the next exit, on the right." I punched him in the gut. He made a weird goat-noise, I assumed. It sounded like that noise you make when you wake up, just on a scratched CD. (Wow. I need a life.) "Meh-eh-eh-eh!"

"Okaaaay..."

"Sorry. Satyr thing."

"All righty then!" Then the van crested a hill, and... we didn't see it. It was the middle of the night, remember? Hahaha. But what we could see was pretty nice in the moonlight, when we got over the border. We passed Thalia's tree, and Gus explained her history. I felt bad for her, and made a mental list if stuff to say to Zeus and Hades about this, mainly involving comparisons to various nasty aspects of animals.

We came to what Gus called the Big House, a huge, farm-style house that probably would be a nice shade of sky-blue in the daylight. Once we were inside, we were greeted by a mousy-haired man with twinkling eyes behind small glasses and a scraggly beard in a wheelchair that smelled like coffee. He introduced himself to me as Chiron, and took us to his office. "I trust Gus here told you the basics?" Chiron asked.

"Yeah." I replied, "Greek gods are real, my dad was one of them, he's a satyr, et cetera."

"Wonderful. Now I won't- shall we say, freak you out." Oh no, I thought. He's gonna turn into something weird too. Great. And guess what? He did. Chiron rose up out of the wheelchair, farther than I would have thought possible, until a white stallion stood in front of me. But where a horse' chest and head shoulders should be, were Chiron the human's. My poor brain. I didn't know if it could take much more. "You're a centaur," I said flatly. "Go figure." Chiron the centaur's eyes twinkled at me. "You are quite the cynical one, I can see."

"And a ninja to boot," Gus muttered, "She nearly murdered me along with the hellhound when I came to get her."

"A hellhound!" Chiron sounded surprised. "We never see those attack new campers without even a single injury! Are you at all wounded, either of you?" We replied in the negative. Chiron was really surprised now. "A new camper, no knowledge at all of the gods or her own identity, yet she managed to kill a hellhound without getting herself or her protector injured in the slightest. You must have great skill and potential, my dear," he said to me. "No one has done something like that on a first attempt in a great many years. May I ask, how exactly did you manage this?"

"Well, before Gus came on the scene, I had found a necklace in the creek, in the woods I was in," I held up the necklace. I had found it back around my neck while driving, for probably godly reasons.

"Do you recognize either of these symbols?" Chiron asked, "They could help greatly in figuring out who your father is."

"No, no idea. I've never seen these before."

"Hmm. Continue, please."

"Okay. Anyway, Gus came up, we argued a bit-" Chiron chuckled, "-and the dog found us as we were going to the van. It launched itself at me, and as I was holding the necklace, it sort of melted in my hands, and suddenly I was holding two knives. For some reason, I threw them at the dog as it was jumping at me, they hit its neck, and it turned into a pile of sand."

"Yes, monsters do that. You see, they can die, but they do not have souls. They will be sent to the pits of Tartarus, in the Underworld, where the will reform and eventually, they will come back. This may take a week, or if you are y, an entire lifetime, but they will always come back."

"Ah." Don't judge me. I was tired, hungry, overwhelmed, and falling off the deep end of a caffeine high.

"But perhaps this is not the best time to introduce you to you cabin for the time being," Chiron said, correctly interpreting my response. "Why don't you stay in our guest bedroom? Gus, would you mind escorting her?" Gus nodded. "Good, good. Meet me on the porch when you wake up, so you can meet the camp."

"Yes, Chiron." I get polite when I'm tired. Opposite of most people, but I find authority lets you off easier when you're polite. Chiron chuckled.

"All right, your room is upstairs, third door on the left, in the yellow hall. You can't miss it. I'll see you in the morning, Hevan Libelle." I nodded, almost too exhausted to speak. I followed Gus up the stairs, and into a pleasant room, with off-white walls and a natural looking dresser made of light brown wood, with the mirror and windows framed to match. There was a bed made up with a chestnut-brown quilt and a rag rug on the floor with all shades of brown and white. It was a very nice room. I didn't care. After Gus left, I collapsed onto the bed, fully clothed and drifted off. My last thought before sleep took me: Welcome to Camp Half-Blood, Hevan

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**Hello again, my pretties! Did you like it? Was it everything you were looking for? Sorry, listening to "Like You'll Never See Me Again." And now, for mandatory ploy to you to review: What's your favorite song? Shoutout to Ryan (Guest) and Rainbor123, Ryan for being my one and only reviewer, and Rainbor123 for following and favoriting. Luv u guys! :) Please R&R! Can we make it to five reviews? TTYL, my lovely griffins! CFC**


	3. Very Important AN

To anyone who might care: I deeply apologize to anyone who might think this is a valid part of he story. I'm very very sorry. Truly, it tears my heart. But I do have a legit reason for this. I need OCs. Demigods who could relate to and/or be friends with Hevan, her type of social outcast. If you could have them be one of the overlooked minor gods,such as Eris, Ate, or Nyx, I would be eternally grateful. Morpheus or Hecate would work too, if you could have their godly parent, and, by consequence, their child, angry at being overlooked and underestimated. I'm so sorry for the restrictions, but I have a definite direction I want this story to go in, and I'd like to stick to it. Please, if you care enough to read this, give me ideas. Reviews or PMs, I don't care which. I promise, as soon as I get one OC idea, I will update in the next week. I haven't been very good with my time-management lately, but you know I'll try my damndest. Sincerely (hoping), CFC


	4. The Closest I've Ever Come to Fangirling

**Hello again, my pretties! New chapter, as promised, one week! (I think). I'm sorry if I didn't get your OC in; I will probably at least make them a valid character later on, if not one of Hevan's close friends. Now for the disclaimer: Do you think Beckendorf and Silena wold be dead if I owned PJO? No. So I don't. Now on to the story! **

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_I was in someplace dark. Other than that, I couldn't tell much. I seemed to be standing on the ground- firm and cool beneath me- but when I reached down to touch it, nothing was there. I could smell the barest hint of dirt, stone, and rusty water on the faint, neverending breath of a breeze that circled around me. "So, you have come to the camp." A male voice suddenly reverberated in my ears. It held no emotion, no hint of warmth or coldness, though it sounded like it was better suited for the snide taunts I prided myself in giving. "You have great potential, daughter of mine," it said. "I have not had a child like you in years." I wanted to reply, but something told me it was better not to." I could hear a smirk in the voice as it said, "You are wise. Very strong, as well, in wit, will, and strength of the physical kind. You are my chosen daughter, and I trust you will follow your father's wishes." I got angry then. "Who are you to tell me what to do?" I yelled to the darkness. "You're no father of mine! Where were you, the years I spent nursing that worthless drunk of a mother?" The voice now held a hint of the cold anger I was so accustomed to from my mother, as it said, "You are ungrateful, child. Perhaps you are not what I had originally thought..." _

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I woke with a start to the room at Camp Half-Blood. Unlike most people, I've never had a hard time with leaving things behind, or remembering hard things. I knew where I was, and what had happened the night before. I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes impatiently, and scowled at the window, cursing the sun for waking me up. Momentarily, the sun flashed so brightly, I had spots dancing across my vision, as thunder rumbled. Greek gods. So temperamental. I changed into a pair of cutoff shorts I had, (as it looked to be very warm already outside), a mocha brown tank top, and a black sweatshirt with white lettering, saying the simple word, Meh. It was a very prized belonging of mine, as it shared my sentiments for most everything. I remembered I had a dream last night, but not the details. Oh well. It's not like dreams _mean_ anything, I said to myself, pulling my unbrushed hair back into a messy knot at the base of my skull. I picked up the small toiletry bag that had been provided. Just before leaving the room, I slipped the bronze necklace back on, the pendant tucked safely under my shirt.

I walked down the stairs, back to the porch where I heard Chiron talking from my window. When I saw him, he was playing some sort of card game with two other satyrs and fat man with blackish purpley hair and a ludicrous, tiger-striped, Hawaiian-style shirt. I cleared my throat. "Ah, Miss Libelle, here you are. I'd like you to meet our camp director, Mr. D." 'Mr. D.' grunted and sifted through his cards. I raised an eyebrow, but decided to ignore his lack of enthusiasm. He had an aura of power around him that, despite his seemingly nonexistent physical authority, frankly had me a bit wary. "Anyway," Chiron went on, glancing at Mr. D, "I should take you to meet your cabin-mates." I nodded.

He stood up and led me down the porch steps and across the camp. "Here are the climbing walls, training arena, weapons shed, amphitheater, and dining hall. Over here are the cabins, one for each Olympian god." I looked where he was gesturing, and saw a patchwork array of "cabins", all different styles, sizes and colors. I saw one that looked sort of like a greenhouse, wrapped in vines with a roof that sprouted grass, one like a cabin made of shell-studded coral, one of gold that gleamed and shone in the sun, and one like a run-down, surprisingly _normal-_looking cabin you could find and a _normal_ camp. Chiron led me toward this one.

He knocked, and a voice rose over all the others, yelling, "Come in!" I stepped in carefully, over the piece of wood that could most definitely trip someone, and saw total chaos. There was barely a square inch of space to walk on, yet the tall girl with the curly brown hair navigated expertly through to us, smiling at Chiron and giving me the once-over. I held her gaze, transmitting that I was not a person to be reckoned with. She seemed to realize this, and, letting go of our staring contest, looked at Chiron. "A newbie?"

"Yes," Chiron said, a slight smile playing over his face. "Helena Rochester, meet Hevan Libelle." I nodded a greeting. She did the same. "Hevan, you'll be staying with the Hermes cabin until your godly parent decided to claim you. That could be pretty much any time in your entire stay at camp. Helena, you will explain the ropes to her?"

"Sure," Helena said, glancing at me. "How 'bout we put you over... here." She gestured to a place near the corner of the room, about two feet square. I gave it a look like, You're kidding me, but decided to let it pass. Just then I noticed that the rest of the overcrowded cabin had stopped what they were doing and were shamelessly staring at me. I slowly turned around so I met their gazes full-on.

"I want to make one thing clear," I said in a quiet, level tone that nevertheless could be heard across the room. "You do not want to pick a fight with me. You do not want to steal my stuff, or sneak up on me, or pull tricks on me. Because if you do, I will make you beg for mercy. I am going to leave my bag here. If it is gone, or anyone has messed with it by the time I get back from training, I will know, and I will find you." I turned on my heel and informed Chiron quietly that I was going to the training arena. As I left the cabin, I could hear the animated chatter begin. I knew what would happen next, and sneaked back behind the cabin to listen in. Over the talking, I could hear Helen's voice asking the cabin at large: "So what do you make of the new girl?" A boy's voice answered.

"She's all talk. If we mess with that bag, she won't even notice, and if we steal it, she'll be too scared to challenge us."

"I don't know, Steve..." Another boy's voice responded, but was interrupted by the first's.

"Oh, what would_ you_ know, Matthews? _You_ haven't even been claimed! Now does anyone else want to be the one or should I?"

"All yours, Hensley." Came the general murmur from the Hermes kids. Hmm... I thought to myself. Steve Hensley. Wonder how good a fighter he is?

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I decided to go down to the training arena, find some badass social outcasts, and ask about Hensley's ninja prowess. So off I went, keeping to the shadows, but meeting curious eyes with Hevan's Glare of Doom, (copyright). Yes, I mentally copyrighted my Glare of Doom, because after the first few trial runs, it is now officially guaranteed to make those who meet it involuntarily shiver. I walked into the arena, to a secluded corner with a rundown dummy. Target practice, I thought, and took off my necklace. Then I remembered I couldn't remember how to use it. Well then, I thought. What was I doing then? "..._I ripped the necklace off and held it with both hands..." _Oh right.

I held it in my hands, my thumbs over the mask's eyeholes, and it melted into the daggers. I closed my eyes and pictured the forest, remembering the first time I had used them and the long hours spent improving my aim. I chose one and stood about a dozen paces from the target, a pretty far throwing distance. I threw from my shoulder, flicking my wrist so it would spin. It whipped through the air and lodged itself in the dummy's shoulder. Well, it was close. Trial two: a couple inches closer... Third time... closer still... Fourth time, it flew... and hit dead center, a killing blow to the heart.

I practiced until I could hit the dummy's heart ten times in a row, then an eleventh for luck. Then I let myself wander around the arena. I discovered an unarmed combat class, and decided to join in, even if it wasn't the Hermes cabin in it. I'm a free spirit. I watched the leader, a brawny girl with fiery red hair in a camo bandana, a camp t-shirt, and cargo pants, teach the techniques, running over anyone who dared interrupt. I watched what they were doing, until the leader noticed me and paired me with a girl who looked about my age, but far stronger. "All right, wimps," the leader said menacingly, "Let's see what you can do. No holds barred. First one to fall loses." I readied my fists, but the girl came up to me with a smile on her face. She came in close, grinned, and just as I was about to punch her on the gut, she kicked out, twisted her leg around the back of my knees, and pushed on my forehead. And down I went.

Well then. So much for ninja. Her mouth twitched and she offered me a hand. "I'm good thanks," I said cooly. I scrambled up, lightly cursing when I got dust in my eye. She was smiling a bit as I got up. "What's so damn funny?" I asked harshly.

"Oh nothing. You're new here right?" I nodded an affirmative.

"Unclaimed," I said, before she could ask. "Its my dad, though."

"Oh. I'm a daughter of Nemesis. She made a deal with Tyche, though, because bad luck always follows her kids, so now I'm blessed by Tyche."

"And they are...?"

"Nemesis is balance and revenge. Tyche is good luck."

"Oh. Not one of the Olympians?"

"No." A hard look crossed her face, and bitterness rose in her eyes. Before I could ask, though, the leader called a new drill.

"Listen up, wimps," she yelled, "This one's fists only. Same rules: first one down loses." I looked at my partner. To my immense satisfaction, she looked a bit nervous. I felt my mouth curl into a smirk.

"Looks like it's my turn now." I smirked. She smiled a bit warily. I smiled back disarmingly, then, when she least expected it, lunged and landed a right hook to her stomach, doubling her up. As she bent over, I gently shoved her, making her fall over.

"Ow."

"Fists not your strong point, huh?"

"Nope. Mom's the goddess of balance, so I'm much better with what I did to you."

"Oh. Yeah, I just practiced on the boys at school, so I'm better with, like, boxing or whatever. By the way, do you know anything about Steve Hensley, from Hermes? I need to kick his ass because he's stealing my bag at some point today and thinks I won't be woman enough to challenge him."

"How do you figure that?"

"I gave a little speech on how I'll beat anyone's ass in if they touch my stuff, then I said I was going to train, but I hid outside the window because I knew they wouldn't think I was seriously gonna pose a threat. I have what I'm going to say to them all planned out. All I need is dirt on his fighting skill."

"Nice! I can totally help with that, revenge thing here. And I know just who to ask." She dragged me to the instructor, who had called five minutes break. "Hey, my friend here needs dirt on Steve Hensley's skills. She's supposed to beat his ass later tonight, and she's a newbie." The girl grunted.

"Hmm. I saw you back there. You're good with your fists, but you need to keep your guard up. The Hermes punks are sneaky. They'll analyze your fighting style and go exactly where you're not expecting, so expect anything. There are two ways to fight them. One is the Ares way, pound them with everything you got until they submit, or you can do the Athena way. Stay completely still and balanced, don't let emotions show, and, once they attack, go hit the most deadly place they have when their guard is down. As for Hensley himself, he's right-handed, so his left is weak. He injured his right ankle a couple weeks ago, so he's weak and still a little bit unbalanced there, too. I don't know why I'm helping you, but that punk annoys the hell out of me, so be sure to whip his ass good."

"Thanks!" my new friend said, as I nodded, putting the pieces together in my mind.

"This is great," she said, as we made our way out of the arena, "You can use that move I did to you. It's really easy, you just distract him with a fake uppercut to the jaw or stomach while you wrap your leg around his bad one and shove his face when he's unbalanced. Hades, you can give him a real punch for all I care. But after you whip him, be careful. They'll get revenge. Watch where you're going at all times. Look out for all the usual pranks, and I'll explain the demigod ones. Now, let's practice." We were in a clearing behind the amphitheater, almost in the forest. According to the sun, it was about four in the afternoon.

"All right, come at me," I aid, grinning wickedly.

"Don't be mad when you're laying in the dust!" she said, smirking right back.

"It's on!" I said. I stood, poised, perfectly balanced, not a twitch of a muscle nor facial expression betray my next move. I was mentally preparing a list of insults to goad him into attacking first.

"All right, I'm gonna try to fight his style," she said. All of a sudden, she rushed me, looking like she would attack head-on, but the tensing in her arms told me she was very prepared for me to dodge. So I didn't. I waited for a split-second as she got almost too close, then snapped my elbow into prime position for a lovely black eye. At the same time, I prepared for the kick-swipe to his weak right ankle. She was expecting this, however, and ducked under my elbow, skipping over the kick that came a millisecond later. What she was not expecting, though, was the chokehold that came from that same arm. As she ducked, I twisted my arm around, so that I held her throat in the crook of my arm, her head braced on my side. I applied gentle pressure, and she began wheezing a bit, still twisting to get free.

I smirked, and with my free hand, grabbed one of her flailing arms and twisted it behind her back, in what I've heard called a "chicken wing".

"Holler 'uncle'," I said nastily.

"NEVER!" she cried dramatically, but I could see that she was in quite a bit of pain. I pulled a bit harder on her arm and she caved.

"Uncle!" she yelled, and I let her go, letting her collapse on the ground and massage her throat and shoulder.

"Gods of Olympus, where did you learn that?" she cried.

"TV," I grinned. "And I watched fights at my school, and practiced on some douchebags I know."

"Well, that makes sense. I never caught your name, by the way."

"I'm Hevan. Hevan Libelle."

"Nice name. I'm Sophie Venganza. Now that we're friends, can I give you a nickname?"

"Sure," I said. I looked at Sophie, my first friend here. She had dark brown hair, with a hint of red streaks, and chocolatey eyes. She was about my height, and she wore shorts like mine, and an orange T-shirt that said Camp Half-Blood on it. She also had a beaded necklace on a leather cord.

"Hmm..." she said, "Hevan. Well, here, we call it Elysium. I think I'll call you... Elly."

"Wow. Nice. Wait, where have I heard the word Venganza before? Hang on... I know! It's revenge in Spanish!"

"Yeah... long story for another day. I changed it when I came here. Before that, I was Sophie Holgate."

"Well then, I'll just have to call you Holly." I smiled. I've never gotten along with someone like this before. I guess this is what having friends is like.

"So, what kind of music do you like?" I asked, just as a conversation starter. I never really had a chance to go all crazy with pop culture, but my mom had surprisingly good CDs.

"Hmm. Don't judge me, but I really like the older nineties-type divas. You know, Beyonce, Shakira, Fergie, Rihanna,... then Pink, Natasha Bedingfield, Alicia Keys, and Christina Aguilera. _Then, _on a completely different note, I love rap. Don't ask me why. It completely clashes with my other tastes, but I just really love Pitbull and Nicki Minaj and Drake and people like that. I'm weird, I know."

"Well, that's not so bad. They have _really_ good music. Do you know that Kat DeLuna song, you know, that one with Elephant Man?"

"Whine Up? I _love_ that song!"

"I _know, _right? Wow. That is the closest thing I have ever come to fangirling, and the most I have ever said to a person... aside from Gus, my satyr."

"Yeah, same here. I guess I'm kinda giddy from that chokehold... and actually having a friend. I don't get along with people."

"Same. I usually scare them off with my ninjaness. And they're all so... What's the word I'm looking for here?"

"Preppy?"

_"Exactly!_ They're all,'Ooh, did you hear about the sale at Abercrombie? Oh, em, gee! Justin Bieber is like, so hawt!' Gods, it's so annoying!"

"I know. This is why we're not in Aphrodite. Ugh. It makes so much sense that we became friends over fighting and revenge. Typical. Hey, you could be an Ares girl..."

"Nah..." I said. "Ares seems... I don't know, just... I don't know. Not me."

"Yeah, you opted for the Athena way of fighting. But you're definitely not one of them. They all have curly blonde hair and grey eyes. Hey! Let's try to find your godly parent by process of elimination!"

"All right," I said. "Who do we know it's _not_?"

"Well, we'll start with the Olympians. None of the goddesses. Not Zeus or Poseidon, no kids because of the Big Three Pact. Mr. D. would have claimed you. Definitely not happy enough for Apollo. Hermes is a possibility... Not Hephaestus. And you already said not Ares."

"I know it's not Hermes either. I don't belong with them. So it's not one of the Olympians."

"Well then."

"Wait, what do you mean by 'the Big Three pact'?"

"The original brothers, Zeus, Poseidon, and Hades, made an agreement not to have any more kids after World War II. It was headed by each of their sons, and caused so much damage that they vowed never to have another mortal lover. It hasn't been broken since."

"Oh. Sounds like a pretty legit reason not to have kids."

"Yeah, definitely."

"I guess I'm not an Olympian's kid, but I'm not really familiar with any minor gods."

"Dammit." Just then, a horn rang out, sounding like it was coming from the dining hall.

"Dinner?" I asked. I looked at Holly's watch. "Wow, six thirty already."

"Yeah, time flies. You need to go back to the Hermes cabin. I'll talk to you at the campfire. Oh, and don't challenge Hensley until afterwards. I need to see it." I nodded, we shared an excited grin, and dashed off our separate ways.

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**How was that, my lovelies? You should probably expect chapters about this long from now on... just never updated this fast. Thanks to Guest #1, Guest #2, LittlePlagueSpirit, and trustingHim17 for reviewing, and some more thanks to trustingHim17 for following. I love you guys! I honestly didn't expect _anyone _to review that fast. If you keep the reviews coming, I'll keep the chapters coming. But if you could please sign your names on reviews? For some reason, the website doesn't let me read anonymous reviews, so I'm sorry to you with the really long list of OCs I could use; I couldn't read past about the middle of Kyra Hadley. :P Next chapter: the showdown! *Cue dramatic music.* Anyway, virtual food of choice and hugs if you review! Bye for now, CFC**


	5. Of Nicknames, Asses, & Too Many Ellipses

**Hello, my griffins! I know what (I hope) you're thinking: Yay! Another update! I think it would be beneficial for you to learn to stops stating the obvious. Sorry for the insanity, this note was written at 12:16 a.m. But please, read on.**

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I scrambled out from behind the arena, my head buzzing. I could see the sun beginning to set over the woods, and I remembered Apollo being moody this morning. I scowled lightly, but couldn't keep the frown on my face. It was crazy, but this place was starting to feel like home. I had a decent living space, food, a friend, and I was going to kick some ass right after dinner. Life was good. I saw Helen Rochester's curly head at the front of a line outside the dining pavilion, and sauntered over to the end. I heard Hensley's obnoxious voice muttering to a couple other Hermes campers, but I couldn't make out the words. _Good to know which one he is,_ I thought to myself, remembering that we had never been introduced. The line began filing into the pavilion, and I followed, analyzing Hensley's strengths and weaknesses. That Ares girl had given me the information, but I wanted to see for myself.

I saw that she had been right. He was slightly unbalanced on his right leg, and when he slapped a high-five with one of his half-brothers, I could see that he was right-handed. _Perfect,_ I thought to myself. I knew how to fight him, his strengths and weaknesses, and I had surprise on my side. I could lose, but... I didn't think I would. He struck me as the overconfident, arrogant type, the ones who needed their ego shoved down a notch or five. And I was more than willing to be the one to do the shoving.

We sat down at what was, I guess, the Hermes table. There were platters of barbecued meat, fruit, salad, bread, etc. on the table. _Mmm, bread,_ I thought. I'm a bit of a carb whore, so I have the telltale flubber on my belly. I really don't care, though. It's not like I'm showing off for anybody, so there's nothing to keep me from my food. Thank the gods. I heaped my plate with some extra-lean steak, some pasta (_caaarrrrrbs..._), strawberries, and grapes. And bread. Lots of bread. I was about to cut into my steak, when everyone started getting up. I followed as they migrated over to a huge, bronze brazier in the center of the room.

"Hey," said a voice next to me. I looked over, and saw Holly walking over.

"Hi," I said. "Um, what exactly are we supposed to be doing...?"

"Oh, they're burnt offerings to our parents. They like the smell. Just scrape a bit of the best food into the fire, and pray to whoever your dad is."

"The smell. Of burning food. They like it."

"Nah, it doesn't really smell like burning food, though. Sniff a bit. You'll see." I shrugged, and stepped up to the brazier. I dumped a bit of steak in the fire, and thought, _Hey, Dad, whoever you are...wanna acknowledge my existence?_ I took a cautious whiff. Hmm. It smelled like... Starbucks. And fresh bread, and jasmine, and dark chocolate, and raspberries. _Damn,_ I thought. _T__hat smells _nothing_ like burning food. _Holly grinned behind me.

"See?"

"Yup. Lucky gods."

"Yeah." We were approaching the tables again, and Holly leaned over and whispered, "Meet me behind the amphitheater after dinner, and I'll explain more stuff." I nodded an affirmative, and we shared a brief, excited grin before she slipped off to some other table. I wondered where she was sitting, because there were't any minor gods' cabins that I could see. I'd have to ask her later, I decided. I sat down on the end of a bench at the Hermes table. No one really cared enough to notice me. I eagerly began shoveling dinner into my mouth. I sighed in contentment. _Ahh, food. The gods' gift to the world._ After I finished, I looked around for something to drink. There were cups on the table, but no drinks that I could see.

"You have to tell the cup what you want," came a voice from behind me. I whipped around so fast I thought I might have gotten whiplash. Standing behind me was a girl a little older than me, with short brown hair, with streaks of different shades of green, and vibrant green eyes. She ducked her head.

"...Thanks," I said, finally. She nodded. "Er, what's your name?" I asked awkwardly.

"I'm Misty Vance," she said, meeting my eyes. I had a feeling she wasn't used to talking much.

"Hevan Libelle," I told her. She raised her head. "Here, sit down," I said, scooting over along the bench to make room for her on the end.

"We're not supposed to sit at other cabins' tables," she mumbled.

"Oh, come on," I grinned. "You're making a friend. I'm sure Chiron can make an exception." She looked me in the eye, and her mouth twitched a bit. She sat down. I wondered if she had any more friends. Somehow, I doubted it. I turned toward my cup. "Decaf, nonfat, low-whip Starbucks brand caramel frappuchino." I announced to my cup. There was a slight _pop, _and said drink appeared in my cup, straw included. "Damn," I said, impressed. "Good service." Misty's mouth twitched again.

I smiled inwardly. We were making progress. "Do you know Sophia Venganza?" She nodded slightly. "Do you like her?" She shrugged.

"I don't know her too well," she said.

"Well, I'm meeting her behind the amphitheater at campfire, so she can explain more demigod stuff. You want to come with?" I asked.

"Sure," she said eagerly.

"It's also a matter of revenge," I told her. "A Hermes kid, Steve Hensley, stole something of mine. He knows the consequences, but thinks I'm too chicken to carry them out, or even figure out who did it. You wouldn't happen to know anything about his fighting style, would you?" She nodded again, a mischievous smile gracing her lips at last. An answering grin split my face. "Oh, this _will _be good..."

"All right children, quiet down," a familiar voice called from the high table. Chiron stood in front of it, addressing the pavilion at large. "Mr. D. will make the announcements now." Mr. D currently seemed to be carrying on a conversation with a cowering satyr, who was holding a platter of grapes up to him. "Uh, Mr. D?" Chiron asked, sounding amused.

"Huh? Oh. Talk-to-the-brats time," Mr. D. grunted. "Right. As per usual: Capture-the Flag on Friday," he said, reading from an index card the had been handed to him by another satyr. "Teams are Hephaestus versus Ares, with Cabin 6 currently holding the laurels-" A burst of exuberant cheers rose from a table on the far side of the pavilion. There were about nine kids there, from about age seven, to sixteen. They all shared the same analytical gray eyes and gold, curly hair. "Yeah, yeah," Dionysus grunted, still holding the index card. "Canoe races are on Sunday, sign up with the nymphs, we're starting Advanced Aerial Combat next week, those of you brave enough to try assistant coaching, sign-up sheets are in the stables. The Pinochle Tournament is in two weeks away, winner's cabin gets a month free of KP and Stable Duty."

He looked to Chiron for confirmation that, yes, he was done. Chiron whispered something to him. "Oh, right. We also have a new camper, unclaimed. Hailey Lewis, stand up." I felt anger begin to bubble in my stomach. Who was this obese old drunk, anyway? Well, besides an all-powerful Greek god. But you'd think after a bazilion or so years, you'd learn how to use your brain! I decided not to acknowledge. After all, he didn't call my name. I pulled a piece off a roll as Chiron scanned the pavilion. Whispers arose from the crowd. After about ten seconds, Chiron decided to take charge.

"Our apologies. Hevan Libelle, would you please stand?" I smiled to myself. Success. I dropped my bread and stood up, giving the crowd my badass 'I don't care' look. "Thank you," Chiron said after a moment. I sat back down, quirking an eyebrow at Misty. She looked like she was containing a grin. "Okay campers, time for campfire!" Chiron called. The campers cheered, stood up, and stampeded to the doors, heading for the amphitheater. Sandy grabbed my hand and towed me along to the back of the theater.

Holly was already there. She grinned at me. "Hey!" she called. "Who'd you bring along?" I grinned back and pulled Sandy up next to me. "Hey Hols! This is Misty Vance. She seems like she might be a nice edition to this club-thing we've got going here."

"Hi," Holly said. "You're Demeter's kid, aren't you?"

"Yeah," Misty said. "But you're in for a bit of a surprise if you think I'm the type to sit around plucking weeds all day." Holly scrutinized the girl more closely, noticing the various scars on her arms and well-built muscles. She nodded.

"All right, I got it. Join the club, quite literally!" Holly laughed. Misty smiled.

"Thank the gods! I thought I wouldn't pass the inspection!" We laughed.

"Oh!" Holly cried. "I almost forgot! I made you a bit of a good luck charm." She handed me a simple friendship bracelet, with what looked like a ball of tinfoil attached. "I put a bit of my hair in the tinfoil ball, so it's imbued with Tyche's blessing, and it's not likely you'll lose your balance. It actually will help you, and probably more because you're getting revenge. See, I carved Tyche and Nemesis' symbols on it with my fingernail." I examined the tinfoil more closely, and saw that etched into the surface was a broken wheel, looking sort of like the skeleton of a Pac-Man, and the tiller of a boat.

"Oh my gods, thank you so much!" I cried, grabbing Holly in a tight hug. I looked at Misty, standing off to the side, and dragged her in, too. She tensed for a second, then relaxed, letting out a soft laugh. We let go and plopped our butts down on the grass, under the silhouette of an olive tree.

"So, you've got the fight down. Now you need to know about their revenge," Holly said, looking at me. "They'll probably try the old hair dye in the shampoo, or the disgusting substances either dumped on you from a doorway or at night."

"I can handle the hair dye bit," Misty chimed in suddenly. "We have a neutralizing agent for all colors, and it works on anything. I'll just find you a bottle sometime tonight."

"Perfect!" I said. Holly was nodding.

"And the stuff they'll dump on you... that's harder."

"Yeah... Maybe I can sleep outside? Or try to overhear their plans again?"

"Nah. Too unreliable. We could try setting counter-traps up?"

"I could probably do that. But it's not likely they'll do anything in my sleep. I'd just wake up and kill them. I'll just try to be observant and catch any trip wire or rigged doors. And if not, I'll beat their asses."

"That works too." Holly said with a smirk. We were silent, contemplating. We could hear the campers singing, quite off-key, but lead by a melodious harmony.

"I assume that's Apollo's kids, leading?" I asked.

"Yeah," Misty said. "They're the only ones who can carry a tune." Holly made a noise of agreement.

"Oh, no," I said suddenly. "We cannot be getting sleepy. Hensley's ass is gonna get lonely if I'm too tired to kick it!"

"You're right," Holly said, false horror crossing her face. "I think I know what to do." And she was off, dashing past the amphitheater's entrance toward a blue shimmer that I could barely make out in the dark. We scrambled after her, trying not to trip on a misplaced strawberry and die. She stopped abruptly, and I realized we were standing on a dock.

"Oh, no," I said backing away. "No, no, no."

"What? You can't swim? Or you feel like you'll get hurt?" Holly asked, actually concerned.

"No, nothing that primal. Just..." I trailed off.

"What?" Misty asked.

"Umm... This is my last bra." I said, slightly embarrassed.

"Oh, that's all?" Holly smirked evilly. "Well then..." I just had time to think, _Gods, no,_ before she jumped behind Misty and I and shoved us both off the pier, cannonballing after us. I think I screamed, before I hit the water and it became a cloud of white bubbles, luminescent in the moonlight. I kicked my way back up, whipping my hair back and gasping as I hit the surface.

"Fuck... you," I told Holly, shivering and struggling way out of my sopping sweatshirt and retrieving my shoes from my feet. I chucked them up onto the dock, madly treading water. She laughed. Misty was clinging to the dock pole with one hand, and treading water as well, as was Holly. They had arrived at the surface before me. I contemplated for a minute, then, with a wild war cry, launched myself out of the water, grabbing Holly's head and dunking her. I saw that her hand had slipped down the pole. _Good,_ I thought. _I hope she'll get splinters._ I pulled her head up and smacked her, before starting to laugh too. Misty joined in, as Holly tried to cross her arms and pout, but quickly gave up when she realized she couldn't stay up.

"I hate you," she grumbled at me.

"I'm getting pretty good practice for revenge, aren't I?" I asked.

"Meh." she muttered. Misty snickered. Just then, we heard the noise of about a hundred campers migrating back to their cabins. "Oh shit," Holly said, slightly panicked. "The harpies should be out soon." Misty looked at her with the same expression.

"What?" I asked. "Should I be concerned?" Holly and Misty exchanged glances.

"Unless you _like _getting eaten by rabid chicken-ladies," Holly said. I thought this over.

"You know," I said nonchalantly, "It's been fun, but I think it's about time we take our leave." Misty and Holly agreed. We hauled ourselves out of the lake, and dashed to the conveniently placed girls bathroom, in which there was a lovely swimsuit dryer. It took a while, but we managed to dry all of our clothes before everyone stormed in for showers and various other pre-bed activities.

"Okay guys, follow me," I whispered as we stealth-ninja sneaked to the Hermes cabin. I showed them an old trellis leaning against the roof, where they could climb up and watch through a window. I could see that almost all of the cabin was inside, and still dressed. More importantly, Hensley was there. We exchanged nervous, but mostly excited looks. I grinned with the same feeling.

"Ready?' Holly asked. "Got your bracelet?" I tapped the accessory around my wrist, and we did a triple hug. Then I took a deep breath, wrung out my hair one last time, and walked into the cabin, for the final confrontation.

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**You know, I really could have stopped it here, but since I promised the showdown this chapter, I decided to keep going. You can take this line-breaking intermission to plan you review. Luvs!**

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Everyone was acting normal, milling around, talking, acting like total idiot. Normal. Only a few on the floor were quiet, and I noticed that one of them was the unclaimed boy who had defended me, Matthews. Hmm. That might mean something. I decided to leave it be for now. I had a stuck-up ass to serve one Steve Hensley on a stick. I walked over to my square of floor. As expected, my bag was gone. I noticed that, while the noise had not stopped, the eyes of most of the claimed Hermes campers were trained on me.

I let anger cross my face, just for the show. I slowly turned around to face the cabin. I glared hard, my eyes sweeping everyone in the cabin. "Someone stole my bag," I said quietly, piercingly. "Anyone care to claim credit?" I let my gaze rest on Hensley. He was silent. "Too scared?" I asked, glaring into his eyes, which now held a touch of disbelief and surprise. Hensley shook it off and rolled his eyes exaggeratedly.

"So I took the bag. What are you gonna do about it?" His tone held a challenge. I raised an eyebrow. "You're too chicken to fight me," he said confidently.

"Hensley," Helena barked, trying to protect me and the cabin at large. I held up a hand in her direction.

"You want to fight?" I asked him. "Bring it."

"It's the middle of the night-" he protested, but I cut him off.

"So you are scared."

"Hades no, bitch," he growled. "You want a fight, you're getting one." I quirked my eyebrow amusedly. Helen and a couple other kids were clearing the sleeping bags off the floor. They knew what was happening.

"Lovely," I said lightly, walking over so I was facing him. The other Hermes campers formed a circle around us. Deja vu much? I thought, remembering earlier today, practicing with Holly. I thought back, and balanced perfectly on each foot, my expression neutral, eyes focused on his. He looked surprised again, first at the fact that I was going through with this, and that I was doing it so well.

I knew the Hermes kids were at least some measure of honest about fights, so they probably wouldn't interfere. Helena would make sure of that. She was currently facepalming as she walked over to a corner to watch. I waited, knowing that Hensley would make the first move. Sure enough, he rushed me, just as Holly had. I saw his eyes briefly flicker to my left side before he dove, anticipating that I'd dodge that way. I smirked inwardly, and let my eyes flash to my left as well. I shifted my weight onto my left as if to dodge, then threw myself right, just as he threw a punch- to the left.

I roundhouse kicked the backs of his knees while he was still disoriented, and he stumbled forward, almost collapsing. I spun so I stood in front of him, kicked him in the stomach (so he wouldn't punch me), and did what Holly would be proud of: punched him in the nose, wrapped my leg around his bad one, and swept it forward, pushing him back at the same time. And down he went, like a charm. He thudded ungracefully against the floor, audibly shaking the cabin. I stepped on his stomach (not with my full weight, obviously), and looked around the cabin.

"Anyone else?" I asked fiercely, feeling like the queen of badass. It was silent. I nodded and looked contemptuously down at Hensley, who was cupping his broken nose, trying to stem the blood flow. "Now, care to hand over the bag?" Wordlessly, Helena walked over to a bare spot on the floor, pulled up the board, and took my bag out of it. "Thank you," I said as she handed it to me. She nodded.

"I won't report you," she told me, "Because a), you technically did nothing wrong, and b), Hensley was asking for it." She gave me an approving look, and a flash of understanding passed between us. I knew she had the same opinion of him as I did. "Thanks," she muttered under her breath, so no one else could hear. "He was getting annoying." I gave her a real smile, then turned on my heel and strode out of the cabin like a badass.

Holly and Misty were waiting outside. They were both containing gigantic grins. We dashed back out to the showers before we busted out laughing. "Oh my... gods..." Holly gasped, "That...was the most...badassest...thing I...have ever seen!"

"Glad...you thought so," I panted. "Though I doubt...Hensley feels...the same!" That brought on a new fit of laughs, and we all were literally rolling on the floor laughing. Mistyy was only able to choke out one statement:

"Fucking... awesome."

"You know," I remarked, as we sat on the sinks after the initial laugh attack had faded, "Hensley is going to try to kill me."

"Most probably," Holly agreed. "What to do, what to do..."

"We could go to the woods," Misty offered. "I'm friends with some of the dryads. They'll keep us safe."

"Perfect," I grinned.

"We can get supplies at the camp store," Holly said. "Pillows and blankets and sleeping bags and toiletry kits and stuff. I've been in there so many times, stealing them won't be a problem."

"Let's leave a few drachma on the counter," suggested Misty. "No need to steal if we're not desperate." We agreed. We traipsed back to the camp store with sore abs, and made our 'puchases'. Then we hauled them, under Misty's direction, to the woods. We tripped and stumbled and staggered out way through the forest, falling over roots and getting smacked by branches. Just as I was planning a mutiny, Misty stooped abruptly and said, "We're here." I looked around, with the aid of a borrowed flashlight, and saw that we were in a clearing surrounded by some exceptionally tall trees. Misty stepped to the foot of one with light brownish-gray bark and dark red leaves.

"Lola!" Misty called softly, "You there?" I was about to question her sanity when a beautiful woman materialized out of the tree. She had faint patterns on her arms and legs that, I realized, matched the tree bark, red hair of the exact same shade as the leaves, and eyes of the same color as the bark. She was wearing a lightweight red dress that had no real design, but was loosely tied around her waist with an elaborate hemp belt, which had some of the leaves of the red tree braided into it. She seemed to be in her mid-fifties, but since she came out of a tree, I figured that wasn't too relevant.

"Hello, child," the lady- Lola?- said to Misty. Her voice was brisk and dry, but quite rich at the same time. "I see you've brought friends."

"Yeah, this is Hevan Libelle and Sophia Venganza," she answered, gesturing to us in turn. "Hevan gave a Hermes boy what was coming to him, and we know he'll try something underhanded. We need a place to sleep tonight."

"Of course, you can stay with me!" Lola exclaimed. "Here, let me make beds for you..." She turned to her tree and closed her eyes. I heard rustling noises above us, and looked up to see the branches weaving themselves into platform-like things. Then all the branches shook, and the masses of leaves that fluttered down came to rest on top of the platforms.

"Excuse me, but what _are_ you?" I asked her in disbelief. She laughed.

"I am a dryad, dear. The spirit of this, rather lovely, if I do say so myself, red maple. My name is Lola."

"Oh," I said, once again like an idiot. "Kay, then..." She smiled at me.

"All right, dears. I'll get your supplies up, then you can get settled." she said, holding her arms out for our stuff. We piled it on, and she melted back into the tree, reappearing at the platform level. She set them down, and gestured for us to come up. Misty took the lead, darting up the knots and branches like a freaking chipmunk, while Holly and I clambered up as best we could. It too about half a millennia, but we eventually hauled our sorry asses up to the quite sturdy platforms, about twelve feet off the forest floor.

"Whew!" Holly panted, flopping onto the platform. "I need to start training harder. That was way too painful." Misty had already laid out blankets over the leaves, with sleeping bags on top.

"Thanks, Misty," I yawned. "Gods, what time is it?"

"Like, one," Holly said, yawning back. Misty and I yawned in sync, then the three busted out into halfhearted laughs. We laid down, and were staring at the stars as people tend to do at campouts, when I realized something.

"You know, all of our names- or nicknames- end in 'y'."

"Yeah, I thought of that, too!" exclaimed Holly.

"What?" asked Misty.

"Well, earlier today, Elly- I mean, Hevan- and I decided to give each other nicknames. I'm Holly, because my real last name is Holgate, and she's Elly, because our Heaven is Elysium. I'm thinking we could give you a nickname, too, because it wouldn't be cool if we know you the same as everyone else," Holly explained.

"All right," Misty said. "My middle name is Amaryllis. Think you can do something with that?"

"Amy!" I exclaimed immediately. "It's perfect! And we could call ourselves... what's the Greek word for 'y'?"

"Upsilon," Holly said. "But if we called ourselves that, we'd sound like some sorority!"

"True," I mused. "Is there something we can do to the letters...?"

"You know what?" Misty announced suddenly. "It's too late to talk about this crap. I'm going to sleep."

"Actually, it's too _early_ to talk about this crap," I corrected, stifling a yawn.

"Whatever," Holly said. "Sleep. Good. Bed. Comfy. Dark. Warm. Happy. Night."

"Night Hols."

"Night Ames."

"Night Holly-Hol-Hol."

"Night Ellsies."

"Night Amy-Girl."

"Night Elle-Bell."

"Night Lola."

"Good-night, children," came Lola's voice. I heard her begin to sing softly, a song about the beautiful days when the world was young, and for a moment, I ached for something I had never known. Then her melodious voice lulled me deeper into sleep, and I was dead to the world.

* * *

**Hows about that, huh? Was the fight what you wanted? I've never wrote a fight scene before... Please let me know! For the "Night _" bit, just use your imagination for who's talking to whom. Is it whom or who? I always screw those up. Anyway, school's out :D, so that means more updates! Probably! Love y'all! Reviews are to authors as chocolate is to PMSing girls!**


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